From: nvrgrim@aol.com (NVRGRIM) Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: NEW STORY: "Night Is Another Thing" Date: 14 May 1996 05:12:04 -0400 I recently realized that I forgot to post this to the newsgroup after sending it to the EMXC.... and since I'm almost finished with the sequel, I thought that the time to do so was now!! :-) Author's Note: Hello, distractions, distractions, distractions.... here I am *trying* to finish the next installment of the road story and look what happened! A sequel to BOATS AGAINST THE CURRENT just popped into my head and =demanded= to be written at once. Far be it for me to ignore the creative muse... and hopefully this will be a satisfying conclusion for all those who demanded "More!" when I posted my first Fitzgerald homage. Thanks to everybody who wrote -- honestly, there's *nothing* more rewarding than mail about a story that you've written and posted -- it's the best kind of gratification there is! So enjoy... and let me know at nvrgrim@aol.com what you thought! Disclaimer: As was the case with BOATS, I definitely owe some thanks to F. Scott Fitzgerald for the inspiration for this one, and probably Hemingway too! I extend the usual kudos to Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox Inc. for creating Mulder and Scully and allowing me to take these characters and do whatever I want with them as long as I don't get paid for it.... NIGHT IS ANOTHER THING (1/1) by Nicole Perry nvrgrim@aol.com 2/25/96 It was the motion of the boat that woke me in time for dinner, combined with a hunger that was more intense than any I had ever felt. I dressed quickly, fumbling through the suitcase for my dinner jacket and regretting the fact that I lacked the time to ask the valet to press the wrinkles from the fabric. A bit disheveled, I made my way through the corridors up to the dining salon, tipping my head in greeting to the passengers I met as I walked. It was 1926, right in the middle of Prohibition, and most Americans who had the money to burn were headed as I was for foreign shores, anxious to avoid the restrictions placed upon us by our government. After several years of negotiating political minefields, I had managed to save up the funds for this Atlantic crossing, and had made up my mind to enjoy each of the days available to me without thinking once about the life I had left behind. Inside the salon, passengers mixed and mingled, awaiting the bell that signified the beginning of the meal. I made conversation with several of the men and women near me in the line at the bar, anticipating the bourbon I had ordered with an eagerness that almost dismayed me. The captain entered, and the bell sounded, and we made our way towards our seats. Not being of any particular rank or privilege, my assigned seat wasn't at one of the better tables -- still, I counted my blessings and thanked whomever was listening for the glorious opportunity. Across the room, at the captain's table, I noticed a woman with a brilliant head of auburn hair, and the sight brought back a memory that I thought was long forgotten, a memory colored by the glow of Japanese lanterns at a Maryland garden party. I shook the thought from my head, grasped hands with my seatmate, and began the tedious process of introductions. Later, savoring a cigarette, I made my way along the deck, staring at the ocean as it swirled around the ship and wondering just what Europe might have in store for me. It was there, during my wanderings, that I came across the two of them, alerted to their presence by the musical tones of her voice. "Charles Hopper?" The word was less a question than a declaration, and I quickly turned at the sound. "It *is* you! How delightful! Give us a kiss, why don't you!" It was she, the red-haired beauty from the dining salon, and I recognized her instantly. "Dana!" I kissed her quickly on the cheek and she favored me with the beautiful smile that had haunted my dreams from the moment I met her. "Whatever are you doing here?" "Escaping," she answered, her voice a low seductive whisper with the barest hint of a giggle beneath. "Have to leave the nasty States behind -- too many restrictions, don't you think?" Although I laughed at her comment, the man beside her did not, merely tightening his grasp on her arm. She winced slightly but her face lost none of its joy. "You remember Jack, don't you, Charles?" "Certainly," I answered, "good to see you again." "And you," he replied, taking my outstretched hand and giving it a firm shake. "Thought you were making a go of it in politics." "I was," I remarked, "and still am. This is but a mere vacation. A little time away, as they say." "And say they do," Dana responded, tossing her fiery locks over one shoulder. She was as beautiful as I remembered, the intervening years having done no harm to her smooth ivory skin. She was dressed as always in a dress of palest silk that sheathed her curves in ways that I could not help but find seductive. "Care to join us in a drink?" "Certainly," I said, happy to find myself amongst friends, though Jack's response was less than friendly. "Follow us, then," he said, and I made to do just that, noting that his hand never wavered from her arm. I followed them into the smoking bar, where Jack quickly lit a cigar. He sank into one of the finely cushioned chairs, Dana following suit. I joined them in their corner and motioned for the young steward. He approached, and I addressed him, with a nod towards Dana. "We'll be needing a round of drinks here." She looked up at the man with a smile. "Champagne for me," she laughed, "a glass of your finest." The steward nodded, then glanced at Jack, who said nothing, and I rushed to fill the gap. "Bourbon," I said, answering the young man's unspoken question. "A glass for myself and my compatriot." Jack merely nodded, and I assumed that my choice was acceptable. "So tell us," said Dana, "what have you been doing all this time?" "Working," I replied, "too long and too hard. Nothing else of note." Dana nodded with a wise and knowing look. "All work and no play... you know how that ends up." "Indeed I do," I laughed, rediscovering her charm. "Indeed I do." The three of us passed what some would call an enjoyable evening, reminiscing about people that we had known in Maryland, exchanging stories and other odd bits of gossip until night fell. Jack seemed distracted during most of the conversation, more focused on his drink and his cigar than the things of which we spoke. It had grown late when he put his arm around Dana with a possessiveness that startled me. "Time we were in bed," he declared, and she hesitated a moment before she spoke. "But it's lovely here," she answered quietly, "and it is so nice to see Charles." "We're leaving," he announced, standing as he did so. He took her hand and pulled her up beside him and she flashed me a glance that contained a large measure of apology. "Goodnight, Charles." There was a quiet resignation in her voice, and I tried to lighten her mood. "Goodnight, Dana, Jack. Lovely to see you both. Perhaps again on the morrow?" "Perhaps," said Jack, as he pulled her behind him out the door that led to the corridor. I sat where I was, musing on the intricacies of life and the paths that had led us to this unexpected reunion. The next morning, I was out on deck early, strolling round and enjoying the sun against my face and the wind in my hair. I noticed her on my third circle of the ship, leaning against the railing, her eyes closed against the wake of the water as it sprayed against the hull. "Morning," I offered by way of greeting. "Oh," Dana murmured, her eyes popping open at my words. "Morning, Charles. Gorgeous day, isn't it?" "It certainly is," I answered, moving to stand next to her. I placed my elbows on the railing, crossing my arms as I leaned in to study her. She was pale in the morning light, and there was something drawn and sad about her expression. "How are you, really?" I asked, hoping for a truthful answer to my question. She paused a moment, her blue eyes seeking mine, before she dared speak. "Marvelous, everything is marvelous. Shouldn't it be?" "Well, I suppose so," I replied, unsure of the response she desired. "You and Jack seem well." Dana sighed, a long sigh that seemed to me as though it were full of pain and regret. "As well as can be expected," was all that she said. I watched her, silhouetted against the ocean beyond, and wondered what could possibly cause such a beautiful woman such despair. A thousand questions raced through my mind, but I knew better than to give them voice. Never one to have studied etiquette, I still knew the invisible boundaries that society placed on conversation between casual acquaintances. We stood for a time in relative silence, then she tipped her head towards me. In words that seemed to me conveniently nonchalant, she asked, "Your friend, Mr. Mulder. How is he?" "He's fine, I suppose," I remarked, uncertain how to answer. "Haven't seen him in some time." "Really?" Her blue eyes widened further than I would have thought possible, and I realized that a man could easily lose himself in their depths. "Wherever has he gone?" I shrugged, shifting my position on the railing. "Not certain. He left over a year ago. His house has remained vacant, so I assume he's on some type of vacation. Perhaps, like the rest of us, he's had his fill of the States for the moment." Dana said nothing, only inclined her head in a vague nod, lost in thoughts of her own. She was wearing a dress of white wool jersey, with sleeves that stopped just short of her elbow. She moved her hand to smooth back a wayward reddish curl, and as her sleeve rode up I noticed a purplish bruise on her arm. I couldn't help but stare at the mark on her fair skin and she must have noticed my glance, for she tugged on the sleeve as embarrassment colored her cheeks. "I should go in," she said, glancing towards the cabins. "Find Jack. He's probably ready for breakfast by now." "Right," I answered, forcing a smile to my jaw though it was suddenly tight with anger. "You'd better find him." She smiled, a hesitant smile that still carried a hint of the gaiety I remembered. "I'll see you later, Charles." "Later," I echoed, watching her as she made her way back towards their stateroom, wondering how it was that a man like Jack could be allowed near someone so exquisite. Unfortunately, I did not see Dana nor Jack later, as I spent the better part of the journey in my own stateroom, fighting off a flu that I hadn't expected. The rolling motions of the ship only exacerbated my agony, and it was with no small relief that I disembarked in France. I left the ship and boarded the sleeper car for Paris without a word to anyone, though I saw Dana and Jack as I made my way to my cabin. He was wrestling with their luggage and swearing under his breath, and I noted the anxiety in her expression as she watched him. Feeling too ill to intervene, I merely nodded and continued on my way. The train did much for both my flu and my seasickness, and I reveled in the fact that I was at last on solid ground. Arriving in Paris, I caught a taxi to the Left Bank, thankful that I had at last reached my final destination. I didn't notice which direction that Dana and Jack had gone, and at that point, did not really care. It was difficult enough to live my own life, I mused, without worrying about theirs. I passed several enjoyable weeks in Paris, mingling with compatriots from the States as well as the native Frenchmen who were more than eager to pour back a glass of merlot on my dime. It was after several drinks in one of the bars I had come to adore, the Cafe Napolitain, that I felt a familiar tap on my shoulder. "Hello, sport." I cocked my head to the left and saw Mulder standing beside me, unchanged from the last time I had seen him, despite the intervening years. His dark hair fell in unruly waves across his brow, and his gaze had lost none of its intensity. "Hello yourself," I responded, fueled by one drink too many. "A glass, my friend?" "Certainly," he answered, and I poured wine into a nearby glass, stopping only after the red liquid sloshed against the counter. "What brings you to Paris?" I questioned. "Had no idea I'd find you over here with the rest of the bitter and jaded." He took a sip of the wine as he considered my statement. "Well, I've been traveling a bit. And Paris seemed a likely place to take a rest." "Where have you been?" I asked, curious to learn of his travels. He sighed, a long sigh that contained regrets I could not understand, and there was a haunting anguish in his eyes. "Everywhere," he answered. "Only to discover that nowhere is far enough." With that enigmatic response, he joined me at my table and we talked for awhile about inconsequential things, a bottle and some memories between us. As evening grew into night, he asked, "Care to join me at the Select?" "The Select?" I questioned, my voice heavy with booze. "Cafe Select," he responded. "Quite the spot for expatriates." I stood up at his words and tipped an imaginary hat towards him. "Far be it for me to disappoint the expatriates." He grinned, an unusual sight on his usually dour face, and beckoned me towards the door. I followed him and we caught a taxi that brought us to the Boulevard Montparnasse, where we walked the short distance to the Select. Inside, the room was crowded with the young and hip, all stylishly dressed in the latest fashion and swilling the alcohol as fast as it was poured. Although I was more than a bit inebriated, I found it fascinating to watch Mulder in these surroundings. I had never figured him to be one for the party circuit, despite the wild soirees he had thrown back in Maryland. Yet his attention did not seem to be focused on the throngs of people around him; his gaze was more intently directed, as though he were searching for something, or someone. Perhaps it is my luck or perhaps it is my fate, but I have an uncanny knack for being present at incidents that I would all too soon avoid, given the chance. That night was no exception, for though it was the last thing I would have expected, I sighted Dana and Jack amongst the crowd, just a beat later than Mulder himself. She was wearing a dress unlike any I had previously seen her wear. It was black, its length reaching the ground in a swirl of silk. It was held up by two thin straps that crossed behind her shoulders, revealing an enticing swath of pale skin bare to the glance. Her hair was pulled back from her face by a barrette that sparkled as though encrusted by diamonds and her lips were full and red. Her appearance was so brilliant as to nearly drown out the others surrounding her, save Jack, who stood pressed so near to her side that they appeared to be of one body. His eyes were shuttered and I could see his brow furrow as she tossed her hair in laughing response to a joke told by one of their companions. At that moment I remembered Mulder, and my glance shifted to him. He stood where he was, his eyes fixed on the tableau before him, an intense longing etched into his countenance. "Mulder?" I sought to bring him back to reality with the word, but he shook his head without leaving his trance-like state. "Do me a favor, sport. Buy Jack a drink, won't you?" I stared at him a moment, unsure if he knew what he was asking, but all I needed was one look before I knew. He was in a place where he gave no thought to risk, to jeopardy, to danger. He was caught up in the moment, and it would take someone stronger than I to bring him back. "Certainly," I answered. "Will one be enough?" "It should," he replied, and I said nothing further. Leaving him near the bar, I made my way over to the table where Jack and Dana stood with their group. "Jack! Dana!" I forced a surprise and glee into my voice that I was unable to truly feel. "What a surprise to find you here!" Dana threw her arms around me in an impulsive embrace. "Charles! Just like a bad penny you are, turning up the way you do!" I smiled and gave her a kiss before turning to Jack. "Jack, my good man. May I buy you a bourbon?" Jack gave me a long searching glance, but my earnest expression coupled perhaps by the allure of a blonde girl at the bar led him to acquiesce. "An offer I can't refuse," he responded, giving Dana a warning look before accompanying me to the counter. I noticed that his eyes never left the blonde as we ordered our drinks. Mine, on the other hand, were focused only on Dana, watching her as I waited for the inevitable to occur. I kept Jack turned facing away from their table as I kept my quiet vigil, and after a moment my patience and tenacity was rewarded. I noticed Mulder approach from the shadows near the left wall and touch Dana gently on the shoulder, and witnessed the flush that bloomed across her cheeks as she turned to see him standing there. He took her arm and she allowed it, and the two moved out of my line of sight as our bourbon arrived and I raised my glass to Jack's in a toast. "Cheers, my friend," I said, trying desperately to swallow the dishonor I felt. For such a jealous man, I found Jack to be easily distracted, willing to share nearly three drinks with me before his thoughts returned to his wife. He glanced over towards the table where he had left her, only to find her missing. "Damn it to hell!" His voice raised with the curse and he tossed back the rest of his drink. "A man can't even enjoy a drink these days..." "Something wrong?" I questioned, hoping he wouldn't sense my nervousness. "Nothing's *wrong*." Jack moved away from the bar, shaking his head to clear away the alcohol induced fog. "Just need to teach that wife of mine some manners, is all. Can't turn my back on her for a moment." Frantically I racked my brain for a response, hoping to delay his search. "I'm sure she's just gone off to freshen up," was the best I could do. "Yes, well...." his words trailed off as he searched the cafe. "She'll need to freshen up, after I have a word with her." I followed him as he moved through the bar, searching for Dana with every step. She wasn't amongst any of the groups that he passed, and I could sense his anger growing as he walked. Suddenly I was afraid, not only for Dana but for Mulder and myself, regretting that I had allowed myself to become entwined in this drama. Jack stepped outside and I was right behind him. He looked up and down the street which was empty save a few passersby, and then he made his way slowly down the block, glancing in each window that he passed. Unsure of my own actions, I accompanied him, my curiosity outweighing my desire to run. The night was dark and the darkness carried with it a strange and unsettling hint of danger. Despite the fact that I knew the neighborhood fairly well, a sense of uncertainty overtook me and I realised that it is awfully easy to feel sure of oneself in the light of day, but at night it is another thing. At the end of the block, Jack and I turned the corner in unison and I heard him draw in his breath as we saw them. Dana was standing with her back against the brick wall of a building, standing nearly on tiptoe to allow her arms to wrap round Mulder's neck. He was leaning in towards her, the lapels of his suit obscuring her body as he kissed her. There was something tender and poetic about their embrace, that seemed as though it should be preserved as an example of the noble beauty of passion. "What the hell ---" Jack's voice was a roar as he ran towards them. The two broke off their embrace at the sound, Mulder stepping protectively in front of Dana to block Jack's approach. I was momentarily frozen, unable to do more than watch, but then my feet responded to my brain's command and I edged cautiously forward. "Take your hands off my wife." Jack's words were dark and even and I could see the rage in his face as he moved towards Mulder. Mulder said nothing, merely meeting the man's eyes with his own, fixing him with a steely determined glare. "I'm leaving you, Jack," Dana announced, her hands on Mulder's shoulder as she peered out from behind him. "I'm finished with you -- I'm finished with the way you treat me." Jack laughed, and the sound was grating to my ears. "Finished? We haven't even started. And that's a promise. According to the law, you're mine." Jack took another step forward, his hand reaching out as though to grab Dana, but he was stopped by the pistol that suddenly appeared before him, held steady in Mulder's firm grasp. "There's another kind of law in place now," Mulder declared, his tone smooth and cold. "The kind of law that says you're never going to lay another hand on her. Not if I have anything to say about it." I watched as Jack paused, uncertain as to what his next move should be. I could read his anger in the set of his shoulders, and was suddenly glad that he was unarmed. "You think it's that simple, do you?" Jack laughed again. "You're a fool to take this course. You don't want to play this game with me." There was something frighteningly sinister in Jack's voice that caused Dana to grab at Mulder, pulling at the hand without the pistol. "Mulder...." her words spilled out in an anguished rush. "You don't have to do this." Mulder all but ignored her, keeping the gun firmly trained on Jack. "I'm ready to play the game with you, Jack. Any time, for any stakes. But you will never touch Dana again, as long as I'm alive." I stayed where I was, my breath caught in my throat, waiting for the resolution of this unexpected conflict. Jack hesitated another moment before he finally shrugged, casting a disdainful glance at Dana before turning his gaze back to Mulder. "I'm no fool," he answered. "I know when the cards are stacked against me. But make no mistake. This is far from over, and next time, it will be I who has the advantage." With that, Jack turned and stalked past me, his feet pounding against the street with powerful intensity. He said nothing and I let him go his way, feeling relieved that I had somehow been left out of the events that had transpired. I looked back to see Mulder tuck the pistol back into the dark recesses of his coat, extending a hand towards Dana where she stood, her back still near the wall. She took his hand and grasped it tightly, and the next moment she had disappeared into his arms, swallowed in his embrace, just a bit of her fiery hair visible over the strong curve of his shoulder. I watched for another moment, captivated by their complete absorption in one another, before I turned to leave. My footsteps sounded loud against the gravel and I felt as though I were committing a sin, sending callous waves of noise into their serenity. As I headed back to the Select, I cast a glance behind me and realized that at least for that moment, there was nothing else for them but each other, that they were lost in some special place of union and renewal that could not be disturbed by anything. A smile crossed my face as I walked back into the bar, hailing the bartender to fix me a drink. A brandy this time, in celebration. Okay, this is the end... I think... unless you tell me differently! Praise or flames are willingly accepted at nvrgrim@aol.com -- thanks for reading!